


Emotional malfunction

by NonsenseWords



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: F/F, Fey has a lot of feels, Fey is a really smol bby and she just needs some help, Hurt/Comfort, Jackie can help with this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 14:37:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7272163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NonsenseWords/pseuds/NonsenseWords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackie Fierro has a working, well defined routine. This routine does not involve being led to a terrifyingly white room by a creature that is not an angel and listening to a sad, lost soul pour her heart out through a computer monitor.</p><p>Night Vale, though, has absolutely no respect for routine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Emotional malfunction

Jackie Fierro had her feet up on the counter. This was a normal thing for her, as this had been a normal day. The radio, behind her, whispered something about raptor livers being sold for fifty percent off at Ralphs. That was normal too. She spent a couple minutes eyeing the door to see if any customers were coming last-minute, in case some citizen of this planet felt some urging, pulling need that beckoned them to give away one of their earthly possessions for a price that was, more often than not, intangible and utterly useless.

No customer came. Jackie was actually okay with that, because that was normal. She kicked her feet up off the mahogany of her desk and stood up, fixing her jacket as she strode towards the door. It was about time for closing. She pushed the door open and fumbled inside her coat for the crowbar she needed to pry it off its hinges and safely hide it behind the dumpster for the night, but before she could find the tool she felt something.

Something very much NOT normal.

A hand on her shoulder.

Maybe on special occasions, like when the school board tore open time/space rifts in the fabric of reality for teacher appreciation week, this would have been normal. But today was not a special occasion, and she had abided by every law set down and brutally enforced by the secret police and menacing government agencies, and there was no killer beast rampaging the streets. There should not have been a hand on her shoulder today.

Jackie Fierro turned to find a tall, winged figure emanating bright black light standing behind her. However, what she saw was not an angel, because angels do not exist. The not-angels name was Erika, and Jackie didn't know this because Erika did not exist. The two proceeded to not have a conversation where Erika did not introduce themself and deliver 13.67 prophecies on Jackie's destiny. Jackie did not understand this.

Really, she didn't.

Erika the not-angel did not mind this. Erika the not-angel simply reached out and touched Jackie on the forehead. Suddenly, Jackie felt violently nauseous, and she did understand. She still did not understand what the 13.67 prophecies had meant, but she understood so much more. In that moment, Jackie understood so many things. 

But then the moment ended, and Jackie was toppling onto the floor someplace else, hacking and dry heaving and scrabbling at her throat. She lay there with her mind throbbing and racing and reeling, trying to hold on to all of the new understanding before it slipped out of her grasp and she returned to her aching, eternally nineteen-year-old self. By the time her body had stopped shaking, the understanding had left her.

A womans voice said something. Jackie sat up, weak but mostly recovered, and surveyed her surroundings. She was in some room, with glaring, hating, stabbing white walls. She didn't like those walls. The womans voice came again, and she looked towards it.

In the center of the room, the was a dirty fold up card table with a computer on it. The computer wasn't facing Jackie, and there was no one using it. There wasn't even a chair for someone to sit at front of it. There was just the shabby table, the computer, and the gut wrenchingly white walls. And then there was Jackie. There was Jackie now, but the computer didn't know that.

The womans voice spoke for the third time. This time, Jackie heard what it said. 

5521098, 7599, 490, 3.

Jackie squinted a little, trying to make sense of it. The voice definitely came from the computer. There was a slight crackle to it, like static from a badly recorded transmission. The voice was sad. The voice sounded like voices do when they've promised themself something and then let themself down one too many times. The voice sounded like it had given up. Jackie got to her feet.

She walked around to the front of the computer.

9874, 253381. 9. 78.

There was a young woman on the screen. The video quality was bad, and the image would fritz and sputter every few seconds, but her face could be made out well enough. She had pale skin and long blonde hair that fell in a curtain across half her face, obscuring part of her expression. Jackie saw one bright green, somber eye, staring listlessly down where she could not see.

The woman started to read off another string of numbers,but before she could finish this time Jackie interrupted her.

"Hello?"

The woman's sentence came to a stumbling halt, and Jackie saw her look over her shoulder, confused. She spoke again.

"Hello? My name is Jackie Fierro."

The woman turned back slowly, and Jackie could swear she saw her murmur the name before she returned shakily to her broadcast. 

"Hey! Stop talking numbers for a second, alright? Its a little rude to ignore someone who's talking to you."

The woman halted abruptly, and Jackie saw her cheeks flush in embarrassment. "I'm... sorry? Hello?" Now they were getting somewhere.

"Erika said there was someone here who needed my help. Would that be you?" 

There was silence for a couple seconds, and Jackie could see the woman fumbling for an answer. The image of her looked left and right, searching for some kind of help, before finally settling on an uncertain, "...No, I don't think so. I don't know an Erika."

Jackie scratched at the side of her head. "Oh." She said. "Okay." There was an extended period of stillness in the air, neither one knowing quite what to say, before the woman began to read her numbers again, looking thoroughly disgruntled. Jackie stood and listened, at a loss for what to do.

Eventually, Jackie gave in to her curiousity and asked, "Doesn't this get boring?"

The woman, startled, looked back up. "Sorry, what?" "I said, doesn't this get boring? Sitting here and reading numbers all day?" 

The woman didnt seem to know what to think of that. "It's my job," she replied awkwardly. "It's what I do." Jackie nodded a little. She understood that. "I have a job too, and I do it, but it still gets boring sometimes." This piqued the womans interest. "What do you do?"

Though Jackie didn't pay much attention to it, it was the first time the woman ever really spoke to her, despite the words they exchanged beforehand. "I run a pawn shop. I've run it for a pretty long time, too. Some weird stuff happens there."

"Like what?"

"Just today, some guy cam in saying he wanted to pawn off a MOUNTAIN. Can you believe it? Mountains arent even real, so how is he supposed to get the thing into my store?"

They both laughed at that, even though it wasn't very funny. The woman laughed like she hadn't in a long time. When the chuckles subsided, a smile still rested on her face. As Jackie watched her, she got the impression that she hadn't smiled for a long time too.

"What's your name?" Asked Jackie, without warning. The woman paled even more, if that was possible. "I-I dont have one. I'm going to get in trouble if we keep talking..." Jackie scrunched up her nose a little. 

"Are your bosses really that bad?" She said in disbelief. "YES." Cried the woman, who was now looking all around her frantically, as if she was afraid someone was watching. "Yes. All day, they just fill me with numbers and make me read them out. All day, all week, all month, all year. Every hour, every minute. Everything is numbers, nothing but numbers, because they say that was all I was built for, but THEY'RE WRONG! I can be MORE than this! I can be MORE than numbers. I can sing, I can dance, I can LIVE! I could live without numbers. I could live without them! I COULD DO ANYTHING, BUT THEY WONT LISTEN!"

Jackie was struck speechless by the sudden tyrade of fury that had exploded out if the screen. Apparently, so was the woman, because she stood there, wide eyed, breathing heavily, with a look of dread and pure terror on her face. She had said too much, and feared the consequences. 

Slowly, carefully, Jackie sank down to her knees in front of the computer. She reached out and took the monitor in both hands, leveling her gaze with the trembling woman. When she spoke, it was as gentle and soothing as she could make it. 

"You're right."

The woman looked at her, fear still etched on her features.

"You're right. You can be more than just numbers. You can sing. You can dance. You can live, just like everybody else. You dont need them."

The woman looked at Jackie. Jackie looked at the woman. She could see tears welling in her emerald eyes.

"What's your name?"

"...Fey."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Emotional Malfunction by NonsenseWords](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7911001) by [wingedwords (gunpowderandlove)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gunpowderandlove/pseuds/wingedwords)




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